Night after night who treats you right, baby, it's the guitar man

George Harrison: February 25, 1943-November 29, 2001.

Go play a little sitar, smoke a little pot, and celebrate the life of The Quiet One. I think I will take this opportunity to post a billion and twelve pictures of him because YOU HAVEN'T SEEN NEARLY ENOUGH.

Who draws the crowd and plays so loud,
Baby it’s the guitar man.
Who’s gonna steal the show, you know
Baby it’s the guitar man,

He can make you love, he can make you cry
He will bring you down, then he’ll get you high
Somethin’ keeps him goin’, miles and miles a day
To find another place to play.

Night after night who treats you right,
Baby it’s the guitar man
Who’s on the radio, you go listen
To the guitar man

Then he comes to town, and you see his face,
And you think you might like to take his place
Somethin’ keeps him driftin’ miles and miles away
Searchin’ for the songs to play.

Then you listen to the music and you like to sing along,
You want to get the meaning out of each and ev’ry song
Then you find yourself a message and some words to call your own
And take them home.

He can make you love, he can get you high
He will bring you down, then he’ll make you cry
Somethin’ keeps him movin’, but no one seems to know
What it is that makes him go.

Then the lights begin to flicker and the sound is getting dim
The voice begins to falter and the crowds are getting thin
But he never seems to notice he’s just got to find
Another place to play,
Anyway got to play, anyway got to play.

Whatever, you still won't get me to dress it in clothes

Uhhhhhhhh, ok. So I'll say more on this later, but I might as well be open about it so no rumors are started on the "net", if you will. And really, this does not mean that I have sold out or that I think it's ok to put santa hats or human clothing on animals. But....

Yeah, so my family up and got a dog this weekend.

I mean, technically it might be a puppy, since it is barely 10 months old. However, at 80 pounds, I kind of think it is silly to call it that. Yes, it's pretty much the largest animal in the world, it is kind of like a horse. His name is Max, although it was originally Shooter-why yes, this dog is from West Virginia, how did you know? He's allegedly a lab/st. bernard/hound mix, although the lady at the shelter thinks it may be part newfoundland or something, I don't know the terminology. So yeah, it's really sweet and calm and whatever.

OK FINE I REALLY LIKE THE DOG AND I AM SAD THAT I AM NOT THERE TO PLAY WITH IT AND ALSO I GOT THIS WEIRD URGE TO TALK BABY TALK TO HIM. Are you happy now!??!

Ugly Americans

I know what you're thinking; if it's not The Beatles, it's politics. Sometimes it's my stupid classes, how I hate my crooked nose, or how life is unfair in general. But, more often than not, I don't stray from those two topics. Stick with what you know. Really, I'm giving you culture, here. I'm saying what everyone is thinking, but I'm the one risking my freedom (what what Patriot Act) by posting it on the internet (about the political stuff; Big Brother is not really going to care about how cute George Harrison was or my in-depth analysis on "I Am the Walrus"...be nice or else that really is coming next). But I have to write about our darling "President", not because I do it so very eloquently and express my opinions with grace and dignity, but because he. Is. A. Gigantic. Tool. I mean, the biggest asshole in the land. I'm not kidding. I present my journalistic evidence in the form of an article from today's Style section of the Post about the "President"'s latest trip overseas:

"For the president, it was a rare moment of fun on an otherwise dreary overseas trip. In five years in the presidency, Bush has proved a decidedly unadventurous traveler, an impression undispelled by the weeklong journey through Asia that wraps up Monday. As he barnstormed through Japan, South Korea and China, with a final stop in Mongolia still to come, Bush visited no museums, tried no restaurants, bought no souvenirs and made no effort to meet ordinary local people.
"I live in a bubble," Bush once said, explaining his anti-tourist tendencies by citing the enormous security and logistical considerations involved in arranging any sightseeing. "That's just life."
The Bush spirit trickles down to many of his top advisers, who hardly go out of their way to sample the local offerings either. A number of the most senior White House officials on the trip, perhaps seeking the comforts of their Texas homes, chose to skip the kimchi in South Korea to go to dinner at Outback Steakhouse -- twice."

Ladies and Gentlemen of the Republican party, I would like to personally thank you for electing into office the quintessential "Ugly American". You know, the ones who go to Paris and eat at Burger King and expect people in FRANCE to speak English. These are the same people who walk slowly onto the tube in London, stop right in front of the door, blocking everyone else from getting on, and start yelling to each other about how the train maps don't make sense and how stupid the money looks, neglecting to notice that everyone else on the train is totally silent. These are the people on "The Amazing Race" that everyone looks at in disgust when they say things about the people in some African country needing to "stop breeding". And yet...you have elected one of them to be. The. President.(the periods are for effect, by the way. It would be rude of me to come up to you in person, grab you by the collar, and yell it in your face, which is what I so desperately want to do).

This is why people hate Americans. Cue the other Ugly Americans to say "well we don't care about the other countries! We are AMERICA! Hell yeah, Toby Keith is even gonna sing a song about how putting out footwear inside of people is the "American Way"!! Hell yeah! Nothing bad will happen to us, we are AMERICA!! I can say with authority that we are the best and we don't need anybody and even though we are technically one of the youngest countries, we have nothing to learn from the rest of those foreign bastards NO WAY!!" To which I respond: "Have you ever heard of, I don't know, the ROMAN EMPIRE!?!?!?!??!?!?!" And then the Ugly Americans say : "ROME??!? Hell no, I went to Italy and that whole country is dirty, but I found a Pizza Hut so it was A-OK!"

Admit, for the love of all that is holy, that it is so gross that our "President" can't be bothered to experience another culture. It's so disgusting. How did this happen? How did it come to this? I'm just totally ashamed of my government.

Something totally changed for me the other day, when I watched Saturday Night Live. They opened with a sketch about Bush and how he/his administration/whoever totally lied/made a mistake/whatever about the fake weapons in Iraq. I couldn't even laugh because it's just not funny anymore. How the current administration is so arrogant that they don't think that they have to answer to us, to tell us the truth isn't funny. The amount of Americans, of soldiers who signed up either to get money for college to better their lives or because they believed they would actually get to protect their country and fight for a cause, that are being sent home to their families in body bags isn't funny. The fact that I don't know what's worse, the possiblity that our government actually lied about the information, or that the intelligence POST 9/11 was so weak that it was wrong, is not funny.

There's one thing that is a little funny though, and that's this: I am willing to bet money that Nixon's family and friends are so thrilled about all of this. Because they can finally rest assured that he won't be remembered as the worst, most corrupt President in recent history.







Now that everyone is sad and angry and depressed about this, don't you wish I had posted a nice picture of Ringo in Daisy Dukes? (don't worry, just scroll down to get your fix)

If I had a guitar, it would be weeping over all the faux Jews

Is anyone else just sick to death of Madonna parading around everywhere in the purple spandex leotard? With her 80 year old body parts hanging out everywhere? I mean, really, enough already. She has insulted my people by deciding that she is going to take one of our books and decide that it’s a religion. I think she was confused; we are the chosen PEOPLE. You can’t just CHOOSE to follow some random part of my religion and try to pass it off as legitimate, you can’t pick and CHOOSE what to believe and think that you are not insulting us by selling Kaballah water and red strings. AND THEN SHOW UP PLACES WITH ALL YOUR BUSINESS HANGING OUT AND OFFENDING MY SENSIBILITIES. Demi, you too. We don’t want you. You’d think the fact that we don’t go out and try to recruit people and proselytize would be enough to avoid the crazies. The chances of me splitting a bottle of Manischewitz and studying some Torah with a woman whose name is just a term used to describe a half-cup bra? SLIM TO NONE.
If you love music…actually, scratch that. Even if you hate music, but you do have ears and like to use them for the hearing of pleasant things, then I URGE you to listen to George Harrison’s demo version of “While My Guitar Gently Weeps”. JUST KEEP READING AND SHUT UP ABOUT THE BEATLES. Trust me. Ok, so it’s on the third anthology cd and it is…..insane. I heard it for the first time a couple of weeks ago and then last Thursday we talked about the White Album and my professor talked about how gorgeous it was and I thought to myself “yes! I thought something and a member of the academic world agreed with me!” and he turned the lights of in class and played it. And I am not kidding, this song will make you cry even if you don’t even care about the Beatles and even though it’s not really about anything sad . Except I totally didn’t cry!! I almost did but I didn’t! And I totally congratulated myself for controlling my emotions and not shedding tears over musical notes!! And then I came home and watched CSI and at the end Brass cried and hugged the widow of the man he accidentally killed and I straight up LOST IT. Bawled on the couch. I mean, real crying, like lip quivering, actually have to get up and get a tissue, kind of crying. And thank God Margo had already left for Thanksgiving because….it was not my finest moment. In all fairness, maybe I was just a little hormonal or something. But then again….maybe I am just very, very lame. Who’s to say.
But the point is that this song is amazing. The Beatles really didn’t make a lot of mistakes, let’s be honest, but seriously, they should have left the song acoustic . But noooooooo, Eric Clapton had to show up with his stupid electric guitar and mess with everyone’s universe, as he is apt to do. I mean, George brought Clapton along because he knew that if he showed up with a guest, then everyone else would stop fighting and be on their best behavior and maybe Yoko would stop shrieking. And seriously, I KNOW THAT DRILL. It works. And he totally gave him the guitar solo. On his, one of the greatest guitarists of all time’s, song, about playing the guitar. Which has always seemed kind of blasphemous to me; it’s like if Billy Joel got another musician to play piano on “Piano Man”. It’s not right. But he thought it would be weird and way to pretentious if he played the guitar, which just makes you want to hug him, because seriously, how cool is that?! I would have played it myself and everyone would talk about how lame I was and how full of myself I am and I wouldn’t care. But I mean it’s GEORGE HARRISON-maybe not the best, but definitely the most well known lead guitarist of any band. Brother’s gonna be hanging out with Joe Perry and Slash in Rock and Roll Heaven, for reals. But no, here comes Clapton. Who gets to play the lead guitar on one of the best Beatles songs ever, on the White Album, which also contains another song that George wrote about him, and then less than 10 years later…he steals George’s wife. Yes. Speaking of which, I like “Layla” MUCH better as an acoustic song. I’m not saying that we should send Eric Clapton and his electric guitars to the “Lost” island, BUT…
Anyway, I want everyone to hear the demo version, it is amazing. George’s voice is all of a sudden so beautiful, which kind of came out of left field, to use a cliché that I absolutely loathe and don’t totally understand as I hate baseball. Plus the accent is SO cute- he says “gheee-taaaah” instead of guitar. So everyone IM me and I will figure out how to send the file to you and your life will be changed for the better. Yaaaay!

A Woman's Right to Muse

Some days I just like to sit down at my computer and talk to the Internet about the things that are pissing me off. How on earth did I manage to procrastinate successfully before I had this blog? Ah, yes. Snood.

1. So, Godfather 2? Eh. I mean, did I see the same movie as everyone else? Because everything I heard prior to viewing it heralded it as the greatest most amazing wonderfulest movie of all time. I kind of wasn’t impressed. My suggestions for this movie would be :
-more slapstick humor; all of this blah blah blah irrefutable offers blah blah blah family honor blah blah blah Diane Keaton’s giant forehead gets really old.
-more James Caan
-more sex
-more sex with James Caan
A kicky musical number would really do wonders, too. Also, let’s talk about something that I want to address but I feel like class isn’t the best place for it; wouldn’t it suck to marry 1974 De Niro and then he gets old and looks like 1972 Brando? Yikes. Or for that matter, to marry 1950’s Brando and end up with 1972 Brando. Poor Mrs. Corleone, she never saw it coming. I know, I know, people get old, they look different, blah blah blah. But COME ON, you can’t tell me that you believe anyone saw that coming with Marlon. “Streetcar”=Hot Damn, You Can Call Me Stella Anytime. “Godfather”=Holy Crap I’ll Push Stella Out The Window For You If You Promise Never To Wear An Undershirt In Public.

2. I haven’t had a drink since July. I’m disgustingly sober. There really ought to be more benefits to this though; so far the only thing I have noticed is that the ugly people stay ugly and I am more likely to keep my eyes open when someone takes my picture. That’s it. I mean, seriously; no alcohol since mid summer, no illegal substances since a lot longer than that, no cigarettes in forever. I even quit all of the prescribed crazy pills in August! I feel like I should feel, I don’t know, like I am in a 60’s musical or something. I should be kicking my heels and singing on mountains and rumbling with Jets, and so far, I have done NONE of those things. I should feel like waking up at 5am and doing “calisthenics”. This really sucks.

3. Today I was driving to class and I made the mistake of glancing in the rear-view mirror at myself. ROUGH. Seriously, in the words of the elusive White Stripes, I’ve said it once before, but it bears repeating; I’m a hot mess these days. I’m averaging about 2, 3 hours tops a night. It sounds crazy, but I’m not exaggerating. I know the drill, too-I’ll be totally fine until I come down, and then I will crash like non other. It’s been about 2, 3 weeks. So any day now, really. But the point is, no sleep=BLACK circles under my eyes, they literally look bruised. And then the cold came sooooo quickly and soooo harsh that my lips totally cracked. I looked like a heroin addict who someone beat the crap out of this morning.

4. The national news really let me down yesterday, and I think that Indiana should secede from the Union. They really don’t give a crap about this state, or really the entire middle of this country, for that matter. I was the biggest East Coast snob in the world before I came here, but I see things differently. The Midwest is like that kid in school who was really nice, but kind of nerdy. And maybe he wore tapered jeans or something. You’re nice to his face, but you never really care about him. And then one day you ask him to do your Astronomy homework (oh my God, if only I could find a nerd to do my Astro work!) and he is so excited to do it because you actually included him. That’s the Midwest. We had, oh, I don’t know, about ELEVENTY BILLION TORNADOS yesterday and no one really cared. And then it turns into severe thunderstorms and hits Tennessee and all of a sudden people give a damn. I know how bad thunderstorms can be, I know that they can kill people and cause damage and such. But, I don’t care, they are still NOT TORNADOS!! Tornados are scary motherfuckers- at least with hurricanes you get advanced warning (which is why the whole no aid to Louisiana forever was so infuriating). Tornados come out of nowhere and then they lift your cows into the sky!!! And there are funnel clouds! And swirling winds on the ground! And a lot of other crazy ass things that this East Coast girl never cared to know about! When I watched the “Wizard of Oz” as a kid, I could not fathom why anyone would want to live in an area where winds so mother loving scary that they take away your house are a possibility. And here I am, hiding in my laundry room because that’s what Andrea Buchman, of the famed Channel 8 (home of the DopplerViper!) told me to do!

I know that I have other things to bitch about, but now I have to go dry my hair. Aha! Another thing-why won’t my hair dry and straighten itself?!?! THE WORLD IS NOT FAIR.

I'd like to go back to 1986 and tell her that things are about to start sucking hardcore- I mean, her mom is about to pop out a billion kids that are going to want to steal her crap (including a certain sister who will actually CUT HER HAIR when she is in the 8th grade, otherwise known in child psychology texts as The Year That the Sun Could Very Well Implode And You'd Never Notice Because You Are Too Damn Concerned With What You Look Like ESPECIALLY Your Hair). Her feet are going to grow to epic proportions. And she is going to become a perpetual undergrad, stuck in some kind of weird purgatory where the freshmen keep getting sluttier and worse at walking around campus and you swear you somehow have less credit hours than when you started.

Also she'll discover that pink is so NOT her color.

"America: It's like Britain, only with buttons"-Ringo Starr, 1963

"Tell me, what do those pound-note thingies look like? And do they still make those cute-like half crowns? Maureen does the shopping, but she just uses a card which says 'this is money'".

-Ringo Starr, quoted in a 1968 interview for my Beatles "textbook", the Hunter Davies Beatle biography. Too bad he's the cutest in the land And he makes up phrases like " a hard day's night" and used to call his step-father his "step-ladder" when he was little. I also think it is so cool that he was the favorite one when they first came to the US. Which, come to think of it...as a country, apparently we STILL have a penchant for funny looking millionaires with accents who misuse words and were hardcore into drugs!! RINGO FOR PRESIDENT! So let's tell a Ringo story, shall we?

So I don't even pretend to be this lifetime Beatles fan or anything. I mean, I never hated them, they were just kind of always there. My dad used to sing "I've Just Seen A Face" and "Till There Was You" to me when i was little (yeah, he was a Paul guy, he apparently liked him because they both played bass. Sure dad, whatever, you just jumped on the whole "Cute One" bandwagon, but I'll forgive.) I loved the song "Back in the USSR" when I was younger, though, plus "Let it Be" and "hey Jude" have always been on the favorite song list. But I digress. The point is, I will be the first to admit that it's the Beatles class that has caused this change in my musical interests. But, now that I have taken this mammoth class on them and learned all of this crap, I have this huge appreciation for them as a band, and for everything that they did for the music world. Which is why this confession is so. Damn. Embarassing.

So I think that I mentioned this, maybe in e-mails at the time or something, but I had some (minor) brushes with the rich and famous while in London (nothing like my roomate did. Story of my life, I am NEVER in the right place at the right time. FOR ANY THING.) ANYWAY, I saw Stella McCartney twice during my lunchbreaks on the Strand (oooooh Beatles connection! But that's not the big one). We saw some guy from Dashboard Confessionals or something at Wagamama's one day. I saw Elijah Wood by Trafalgar square. And as far as my internship at TIME, i interviewed some scottish mountain climber, who I am sure is famous in his circle, but I was more concerned with understanding what the hell he was saying, which was INSANELY HARD. But one day, this one reporter in the newsroom asked us all to keep it down because he had to interview someone, and the little thingy that you attach to phones to record phone interviews wasn't working, or they were all being used, or something. Anyway, the point was that he had to do some big important interview and he had to put the phone on speaker and record it that way. Ok, cool, whatev, i am too busy trying to check a story on cheese in Argentina or something to really care. And theeeeeen I hear a voice, one of those voices that is so distinct that it is pretty much universally recognized.And I totally said to myself, in my head, "heeeey...that's Mr. Conductor!"

Yeah, you heard me correctly. RINGO STARR is on the speaker phone with my co-worker, and I am thinking about Shining Fucking Time Station. BEFORE I GET HIT IN THE FACE WITH THE OBJECTS THAT EVERYONE IS GOING TO START THROWING AT ME, in my defense, unlike pretty much any of my friends, I had a little brother born in the mid 90's. The soundtrack to my early teenage years consists of Barney and any other show on PBS. So, yeah. Embarassing! And I admitted to it on the internet!! Because I need for others to learn from my harrowing ordeal, lest history repeat itself. By the way, he was so cool, like crazy nice and friendly to this reporter; granted, it was TIME, and people tend to be cooler when you say you are calling from TIME magazine than when you say you are calling from The Bear Facts or something. But this guy was just a regular reporter, no one super important. So, yeah. This is my Beatle story. To make you forget about this confession, I will now present this picture of Sexy Ringo. BAM-you are too confused by the shorts to even remember what I just told you!!

PS: Not Beatle related, but the other day I got out of class and looked at my phone, only to see a missed call. The number? 00-1246 or something like that. No kidding. I was freaked out, I thought that like God was trying to call meor something. And then I got a message and it was Natalie calling!! From Israel!! On her computer!! (I still don't know how that works, though) And she sang me a tornado song!! About hoping that I didn't get blown away!! Wahooooooo!

PPS: While looking for Ringo pictures, I found this:

And doesn't this look like it could have been taken, like, last week? Because I totally know at least 15 guys with this exact haircut. Granted, you probably won't find any of them wearing a pink towel and a gun holster but still.

I'll write you a blog entry you can't refuse

Just got back from watching The Godfather for my Hollywood Italians class. So naturally, I'm writing a blog entry about it instead of doing my work for my other classes.

Some thoughts:

1. James Caan=so, so hot. I came to that conclusion around the time in the movie that he is beating the crap out of his sister's husband. So what does that say about me? Whatever, who cares. NEXT.

2. Speaking of which, if I could I would go back in time and make Caan stand up straight and stop hunching his shoulders. Because even then they were pretty crazy looking, and now he is a hot mess. He seriously looks Quasimodo-esque these days.

3. I LOVE ABE VIGODA and I shall shout it out for all of the world to hear. Those eyebrows....wow. But seriously, I would totally have trusted him and even when he admitted that he was setting me up, I would totally have forgiven him. I love that man, and if I could I would have adopted him as an extra grandfather. Mob ties or not.

4. Diane Keaton looks A BILLION TIMES BETTER now. For real-there are some women who seriously look so much better as they get older, and she is one of them. Her forehead distracted me the entire three hours.

5. Why don't men wear those newsboy caps anymore? Or suspenders? I think any man looks better wearing those.

6. Al Pacino is ridiculous. We should make him president or something.

7. What is one of my biggest fears? Anybody? Well, I'll tell you; revolving doors. I hate them, won't use them, everyone knows that. So I am just sitting here wondering why nobody mentioned the guy who gets trapped inside the revolving door and then gets shot to death. I am waiting for answers people, my so-called "friends".

8. I would be the greatest mafia boss of all. Time. I'm fairly easily corrupted. I would make everyone in my family wear special jackets or something. My main strategy would be to spread rumors about the other families, and make them think that someone else was saying it. It would be like "Hey, look, Smith Family (or whatever, I am trying to keep the racist Italian stuff to a minimum), the Linguini Family (oops, it slipped!!) said you guys looked fat. Also, they said all of your wives were sluts" or something similar.

I don't know why you're surprised, clearly it was inevitable...

...that I would eventually totally lose my shit. I think it has finally happened. I feel like we can blame this all on Sgt. Pepper.

EricaLeigh42783: Goodness
EricaLeigh42783: You are going to need a debriefing from this class, aren't you?
Byline5183: I SO AM
EricaLeigh42783: Hahaha
Byline5183: that's why i am taking rock history in the 60's next semester!!!Byline5183: it's going to be a little beatles, but maybe some hendrix or the byrds can help me out of this
EricaLeigh42783: That is so badass, I am so jealous
EricaLeigh42783: What kind of college do you go to?
EricaLeigh42783: We only have boring classes
Byline5183: ok, seriously, can we talk about what's going to happen, say, the first week in december when we talk about the beatles breaking up and then john and george dying? i am really worried i am going to have a panic attack, erica
Byline5183: people cry every semester, apparently
EricaLeigh42783: Oh my gosh
EricaLeigh42783: Do they make advance appointments with the grief counselors for you?
Byline5183: i am going to have to call my shrink
EricaLeigh42783: I'm slightly disturbed at the momentus-ness of this whole entire ordeal
Byline5183: seriously
Byline5183: it is weird because it is a class on FOUR GUYS for like 8 years. that's it. so you talk about them for four hours a week
Byline5183: it is intense
Byline5183: ok, but seriously:
EricaLeigh42783: Geez...I hope someone teaches a class on me one day...
Byline5183: http://www.zippyvideos.com/5264966761251726/the_beatles_-_hey_jude_live_version_1/
Byline5183: just LOOK
Byline5183: i mean COME ON, after seeing shit like this i have to hear about them breaking up?!?!

and also

Byline5183: i have all of these beatle facts and NO ONE WANTS TO HEAR THEM
Byline5183: they are funny cool things too!!!!! and i am OBSESSED and no one cares!!!
EricaLeigh42783: Oh hey, I remembers those days
EricaLeigh42783: 7th grade report man...
Byline5183: THAT IS EXACTLY WHAT THIS IS


I mean....I don't think that you understand. Pretty much the only music I listen to (I mean, i love. love. LOVE it but also i have to know all of the songs and who wrote/plays/sings what, so if I start listening to other music it is going to confuse me. Because really? My brain is totally fried at the age of 22. For real, I can't remember jack shit about anything. I can't study, I can't pay attention. I know I have ADD, but that is basically the least of my problems and I can't take those drugs because they will totally bring on The Crazy. Like woah.) So part of the reason I am so into this is because I have to be. And part of it is because I love it; I love analyzing the songs and hearing about their lives and everything. But a big part? I kind of just love caring about something. Because for pretty much an entire YEAR I didn't give a damn about anything. (cue the sad violins). I didn't care about school, I didn't care about my writing, I didn't care about relationships, I did not care that I had the worst dye job in history (HOW COULD YOU ALL HAVE LET ME BLONDE?!?!?! FOR ALL OF THOSE MONTHS?!?!?!?!? WHAT WERE YOU THINKING, "FRIENDS"??!?!?). Eh, you don't need to know about the specifics. But to go from not caring about anything on the entire planet to being excited to go to a CLASS, of all things?!?!??! Feels so effing good I can not tell you ;)


(stop the sad violins now, I hate all stringed instruments)


OK NO MORE OF THAT BECAUSE I AM ON THE VERGE OF A BLOG ENTRY LIKE THOSE PEOPLE DO WHO DOCUMENT WHAT TIME THEY WOKE UP AND WHAT THEY ATE FOR LUNCH AND I WILL NOT DO THAT. I JUST. CAN'T.





And just because this little piece of cyber-space belongs to me and I can do whatever I choose with it.....




So what have we learned today, kids? That half of the recent Beatles obsession is the realization of this deep need to feel connected to something . And the other half is because I think George Harrison was. so. cute.

They're ugly, but then again, so is your mom

Ok, Internet, let's talk about something

As early as two weeks ago, a dark force had once again settled on this campus It could be found everywhere you looked; in the secluded corners of the union to the classrooms on the highest floor of Ballentine to the media viewing room in the library.

Pure evil. In ridiculously comfortable sherpa-boot form.

Ok, I KNOW, but here's the thing; I believe that all Midwesterners should get some kind of pardon from the fashion police and be allowed to wear Uggs, regardless of the social implications. Because ya'll? IT'S COLD AS A MOTHER HERE IN THE WINTER.

I have formulated some brief talking points in order to better express my argument:
1. As forementioned, it is indeed mighty cold here. Biting, violently cold My father, who is from UPSTATE NEW YORK for christ's sake (motto: "12 inches of snow, huh....man, are we having a drought or something??? BREAK OUT THE FLIP-FLOPS, WAHOO!!!") came here once in January and almost flipped out. It really is cold as hell
2. You have to walk EVERYWHERE on this campus. Really. A lot of walking outside in the bitter cold and it's NO GOOD.
3. Bloomington's not exactly Milan. There really is no need to be all about the fashion trends. We don't run the risk of having our picture taken by some Glamour magazine "Fashion Don't" photographer.
4. Have you noticed that the people who hate Ugg boots the most seem to be men? The same men who lost their shit over Timberland boots around 1996 and all of our friends, brothers, boyfriends, rabbis, etc. thought that they ere lumberjacks? Coupled with their ridiculous flannel shirts? It was like a costume. I think there is some deeply-rooted masochistic thing going down here. These men want us out of the workplace with our ugly, yet comfortable boots and into their kitchens. Barefoot.
5. I had THE WORST EXPERIENCE OF MY ENTIRE LIFE at a shoe store last week. I went to the college mall and decided to stop into Payless, which, as any larger footed woman know, is one of two places where you can almost always find shoes (the other being Nordstrom and, please. This is BLOOMINGTON). So I go into the store and over to the aisle with the 10/11/12's. There are a bunch of people there, but I don't really pay attention and instead start looking (everything is hideous, ps, but that's neither here nor there). That's when I notice the people in the aisle with me; 2 saleswomen and two men. Two men who were GOING AS WOMEN TO A HALLOWEEN PARTY AND NEEDED SHOES FOR THEIR BIG HUGE MASCULINE FEET. All I needed to hear was one of the saleswomen say "yeah, we've had guys in here all week, we don't have much left. You could probably try a 10" and then I proceeded to drop the size 11 shoe I was looking at and peace the hell out of there. I really almost cried. That was pretty much my nightmare situation. The real reason I like guys who are really tall? Not because I like to feel shorter. But because I won't run the risk of him BEING ABLE TO WEAR MY HEELS. Anyway, the point of this? I REFUSE TO STEP FOOT INTO A SHOE STORE AGAIN IN THE NEAR FUTURE. So it is either flip-flops, Uggs, sneakers that are slowly dying, or maybe stilletos. Which I strongly doubt will aid me in getting to class on time.